Commander in Chief
by The Wheatmeister
Summary: Work in progress, Harm gets the career opportunity of a lifetime, but it turns out to be more than he bargained for.


Title: Commander in Chief  
Author: Stephanie Wheatley  
Rating: You guys know me...Nothing higher than PG-13  
Classification: Harm/Mac  
Summary: Harm gets the career opportunity of a lifetime, which becomes more than he bargained for...  
Feedback: If you like this, a simple "Good job" would make my day. If you don't, please keep it to yourself, lest you destroy my image of myself as a decent writer.  
****************************************************************************  
June 4, 2004  
Harm's Apartment  
2015 EST  
  
"She wants you to what?" Mac exclaimed.  
  
"Bobbie Latham asked me to be her running mate."  
  
"Wow! That's pretty incredible, Harm. What did you tell her?"  
  
"That I needed to think about it."  
  
"So what do you think about it?" she prompted him.  
  
"It's the opportunity of a lifetime, Mac. We don't agree on  
everything, but we agree on enough that it could work. Bobbie's got the  
party nomination sewn up. And she's doing very well in the polls. She  
could become the first female president this country's ever had. I could be a part of history."  
  
"You'd be living in a fishbowl," she reminded him. "The media would  
follow you everywhere. Nothing in your life would be private anymore.  
Dating would..." she trailed off, knowing he could fill in the blanks.  
  
"Dating would either be a disaster," he finished, "Or involve an  
incredibly understanding woman. I've thought about all of this, Mac. The bad and the good. There are so many things I could accomplish as vice president. I could really make a difference."  
  
"It sounds like you're going to tell Bobbie yes," Mac observed.  
  
"Do you think I should?" Harm asked, no longer the confident man he had been seconds before. "Am I making the right decision, Mac?"  
  
Mac took Harm's hands in hers and looked at him intently. "Harm, I've got to say that I'm a little surprised by this, but I think you'd be a fool to pass this up. Like you said, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. I'm so proud of you, partner."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, really," she said, giving him a big hug. "Vice President Harmful Rabb. God help us all." ****************************************************************************  
Late in August, in Seattle, Washington, Senator Bobbie Latham and  
Captain Harmon Rabb, USN(Ret.), accepted the Democratic Party's nomination as president and vice president. And just as she had always been, Brigadier General Sarah Mackenzie, USMC, had been there every step of the way. Her friendship with Harm had remained steadfast, despite her marriage to, and divorce from, Mic Brumby, and his romantic relationships, which were lasting longer than they had in the past, but still ran out of gas before vows were exchanged. Mac still regretted her decision to marry Brumby. His possessiveness and emotional abuse had almost crushed her spirit, but with Harm's help, she had finally put a stop to it and gone about reclaiming the old Sarah Mackenzie, the one with fire and determination. It was that Sarah Mackenzie who had succeeded Admiral AJ Chegwidden as the JAG upon his appointment to the Joint Chiefs. And it was that Sarah Mackenzie, with all her confidence and determination, who took a leave of absence to help Harm and Bobbie campaign. ****************************************************************************  
November 3, 2004  
0105 EST  
  
"And ZNN News is now projecting that Bobbie Latham has the votes and will become the first female president of the United States."  
  
The announcement had come much later in the evening than in the past, but with the Bush/Gore debacle 4 years earlier, none of the networks seemed ready to wipe egg of their respective faces again. But the hour did not matter to the people gathered in the Willard hotel in Washington. The champagne bottles were opened, people hugged, and the all night party got into full swing as President-Elect Bobbie Latham, Capt. Harmon Rabb, and all of their supporters celebrated their historic victory.  
  
"We did it!" Harm exclaimed as he swept Mac into his arms for a bear hug.  
  
"Congratulations, flyboy," she said, kissing him on the cheek.  
  
"That's Vice President-Elect Flyboy to you."  
  
"Never. Someone's gotta keep your ego in check."  
  
"In that case, I'm glad that someone is you." ****************************************************************************  
January 20 came and went and Bobbie and Harm got started on their  
promises to the American people. As spring approached, President Latham's approval ratings were hovering near 60%, an astronomically high number for any president, but especially the first woman president. But on a dark, rainy day in March, the White House, and the country were turned upside down.  
****************************************************************************  
March 11, 2005  
JAG Headquarters  
1630 EST  
  
"Hey, sailor," Mac said, looking up to see Harm enter her office.  
"What brings you by? And where is your shadow?" she asked, referring to the Secret Service agent who constantly followed him.  
  
"The boss is out of town, so I thought I'd drop by and see how things were going. And my 'shadow' is downstairs in the limo. I convinced him that since this is a government building, he didn't have to worry about any breeches in security."  
  
"And he bought that? He obviously doesn't know half of what goes on around here. Anyhow, Bud's a damn good lawyer. We taught him well, but he's not quite as good as you."  
  
"Or you," Harm added.  
  
"If you say so," she said. "I finally got Singer out of here. She  
tried one too many dirty tricks to get ahead, and I caught her and shipped her off to Okinawa."  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"Only for her. And Tiner has definitely been a pleasant surprise. He shows a lot of promise. Just a semester of law school left and the bar."  
  
"I'm glad," Harm smiled.  
  
Mac's intercom buzzed. "General, turn on the TV. Quick," Petty  
Officer Eric Harrison said.  
  
Mac looked up at Harm with a curious glance and turned on her TV. ZNN was broadcasting live coverage of a gruesome looking plane crash. The volume was turned down, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that no one had survived the crash. "Oh my God," Harm whispered.  
  
"What, Harm?" Mac asked.  
  
"That's Air Force One."  
  
"Shit," Mac swore under her breath. "Use my phone," she said, sensing his upcoming question. He nodded and immediately dialed the White House, then proceeded to have a rushed discussion with an aide. Hanging up, he said, "I have to go back. I have to...I have to take the oath of office."  
  
"I know," Mac said quietly. "Go on, get out of here."  
  
"Come with me, Mac," he pleaded. "I can't do this on my own."  
  
"Okay," she agreed. On their way out, she said, "Harrison, I don't  
know when I'll be back."  
  
"Your messages will be on your desk, General," he said, looking as  
shaken as she felt. "Vice...President Rabb," he murmured softly.  
  
Harm and Mac arrived in the elevator landing where four Secret  
Service agents were waiting for them. They were ushered downstairs to Harm's armored limousine which took off as part of the motorcade speeding down the beltway from Falls Church to the White House. Leaning over to Harm, who looked horribly pale and shell shocked, Mac whispered, "It's gonna be okay, flyboy. President Flyboy."  
  
Harm grasped her hand and said, "God, Sarah, I'm so scared."  
****************************************************************************  
March 11, 2005  
The White House  
2245 EST  
  
"Hey," Mac said, walking up behind Harm in the Rose Garden.  
  
"Hey," he said, turning to face her. She saw the tears glistening in his eyes as he stared at her. "She gave me the greatest opportunity I've ever been given."  
  
"Now keep your promise to her and do everything you can to hold this country together. You can do this, Harm."  
  
"I don't know, Sarah." She went to him and wrapped her arms around him as she felt his defenses break down, and his body was wracked with sobs. "I'm not sure how I'm going to manage," he murmured.  
  
"You've got me, flyboy. Who could go wrong with that?" Harm laughed at that. "Harm," Mac said, "Look at me." He wiped his eyes and looked down at her. "Ten years ago, we met in this Rose Garden. I've been by your side ever since and you've been by my side, too. We've gotten through so much together, and we'll make it through this. You can be President Rabb tomorrow. Right now, Harm is going to the residence to get some sleep."   
  
"Will you stay?" he asked.  
  
Mac placed a hand on his cheek. "I'd love to, Harm. But do you really want to start your presidency with the press wondering why a woman to whom you aren't married spent the night at the White House, no matter how innocent it actually was?"  
  
"You're right," he said, with an air of defeat. "So I guess this is good night, huh?"  
  
"Yeah," she replied. Standing on her toes, she gave him a quick,   
chaste kiss on the lips. "Sleep well, President Flyboy."  
  
"You too, Ninja Girl," he said, as he watched her walk away.  
****************************************************************************  
The White House  
0830 EST  
  
"Mr. Rabb," his personal aide said, honoring his request not to be   
called Mr. President, "General Mackenzie to see you, sir."  
  
"Send her in, Michael."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"You look good behind that desk, Harm," Mac said, as Michael closed the door and left the Oval Office.  
  
"It feels so weird."  
  
"So what's on your agenda today?"  
  
"Hiring people. Discussing candidates for Vice President. President's Daily Brief. Pushing through cabinet appointments. Moving my stuff from the Observatory to the White House."  
  
"Add lunch with me to that. I assume the kitchen staff knows what you like and is stocking up on rabbit food as we speak."  
  
"Yeah. I'd love to have lunch with you. If you don't mind eating in here. I don't know when I'm going to get to sleep tonight."  
  
"Don't say that too loud, Harm. People might get the wrong idea."  
  
"Mac-"  
  
"Harm, I'm serious. With everything that's gone on the past few years, if you so much as breath wrong around a woman, it could be political suicide."  
  
"Mac, I will not be held hostage by the media."  
  
"Maybe not willingly, but you will have to be aware of everything you do, Harm."  
  
"Dammit, Sarah! I refuse to sacrifice our friendship because of some paparazzi!"  
  
"Me, too," she said, leaning against his desk and looking him right in the eye. "And I would never suggest such a thing, Harm. But you need to be aware of everything you do."  
  
He let out a deep sigh. "I know. I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."  
  
"I don't like it either, Harm. Having the Secret Service follow us   
wherever we go. Not being able to go out in public without making a scene. But these are the facts of your life now."  
  
"I know. By the way, the Secret Service has given me the code name   
'Flyboy,' no thanks to you."  
  
"I'm glad I could be of service," she said with a laugh.  
  
"Don't laugh too loud. Their code name for you is 'Ninja Girl.'"  
****************************************************************************  
1945 EST  
Residence  
  
"That was excellent," Harm said, laying his napkin on the table.  
  
"I agree," Mac said.  
  
"Shall we adjourn to the living room?"  
  
"Certainly," Mac replied as Harm pulled her chair out. Once they were settled on the couch in the living room, Mac asked, "So how many of your things to do did you actually get done?"  
  
"Can't really do much about the cabinet appointments; that's up to   
Congress. I'm just glad I signed off on all of Bobbie's appointments. That's actually one less thing for me to worry about. Read the PDB. My aides have been moving my stuff in all day. I have several candidates for VP. And I'm working on getting more support staff hired so we aren't all running around like chickens with our heads cut off."   
  
"Busy day."  
  
"Yeah. And tomorrow, I have to address the nation. Then Bobbie's   
funeral is the day after. I just want this week to end."   
  
Mac placed her hand reassuringly on top of his. "It'll get better,   
Harm."  
  
"I hope so."  
  
"Go to bed, Harm."  
  
"It's not even 2100 hours yet, Mac."  
  
"I don't care," she said in a motherly voice. "Read a book, write in your journal, whatever. Just go to bed. You need to relax, President Flyboy."  
  
"You know I can't say no when you call me that," he smiled.  
  
"Exactly," Mac said, standing up. "Good night, Harm."  
  
He stood and wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you, Sarah. For   
everything."  
  
"You're welcome, Harm. Pleasant dreams," she said quietly before she gave him another quick, though not as chaste kiss. Realizing what she had done, she quickly gathered her things and headed for the door.  
  
Harm watched her retreating figure and rubbed his thumb across his   
lower lip. "They'll be pleasant dreams now," he whispered.  
****************************************************************************  
0930 EST  
White House Press Room  
  
Harm stepped up to the podium and cleared his throat. The press room was silent, the White House press corps ready to hang on his every word. "Good morning," he began. "Two days ago, the unthinkable happened. Air Force One crashed, and all hands were lost. This country was deprived of seeing what was developing into a fine presidency for Bobbie Latham. And I have been deprived of a close friend. But as this country has done so often, we will press on. After the memorial tomorrow, I hope that we can all get back to the business at hand. It has been a difficult 48 hours for all of us. Hopefully tomorrow will give us the closure we need to go on. Thank you."  
  
A reporter near the back of the room stood up and asked, "Mr.   
President, who is the woman who has been seen leaving the White House late at night the past two nights?"  
  
'Oh God,' Harm thought. 'Mac was right.' Taking a deep breath, he   
said evenly, "That woman is Brigadier General Sarah Mackenzie, the Judge   
Advocate General. We were partners at JAG for eight years before she became the JAG. I consider General Mackenzie one of my closest friends."  
  
"Is that all?" the reporter pressed.  
  
"Yes, it is. General Mackenzie is nothing more than a friend." With that, Harm turned and walked out of the press room, oblivious of the explosion of questions left in his wake. He maneuvered the halls of the West Wing, making his way to the Oval Office. "Get General Mackenzie on the phone," he snapped.  
  
"Harm?" she said when he picked up the phone.  
  
"You were right, Sarah. You were right."  
  
"I know," she replied. "I watched the press conference. You handled it very well, though."  
  
"But it's going to keep coming up, Sarah. That's the problem. I don't want to have to justify our relationship."  
  
"I understand, Harm. Really I do. What should I tell the press, Harm? If they call me, what should I say?"  
  
"When they call," he began, placing the emphasis on the word 'when,' "Tell them the truth."  
  
"Which is?" she asked, with just a hint of vulnerability.  
  
"What do you mean, Sarah?"  
  
"What is the truth, Harm? That there are feelings there that neither one of us is apparently denying anymore? Or how about the fact that you've called me 'Sarah' more in the past 48 hours than you have in the past 10 years?  
  
"What are you talking about?"   
  
"That kiss last night. Harm, can you honestly tell me that you didn't feel anything? Or are we going to continue denying our feelings?"   
  
Harm groaned. "Mac, do we have to get into this on the phone?"  
  
"Is it any easier in person? Maybe for normal people, but we seem to have a problem with deal with our feelings face to face." she said with a hint of sarcasm.   
  
Letting out a sigh, Harm asked, "Why don't you, Bud, Harriet, and little AJ join me for dinner tonight? If you all arrive and leave at the same time, it will be less suspicious. I'll call the Admiral and invite him as well. I have several messages from him. Congratulations, no doubt."  
  
"Harm, you're letting this get to you."  
  
"Why shouldn't I, Mac?" he snapped. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "I'm just a little shaken about all of this."  
  
"Just relax. If the press senses you're uncomfortable,   
they'll jump on you."  
  
"I know," he said.  
  
"I'll see you tonight, squid."  
  
"Yeah. Tonight," he said distantly before he hung up.  
****************************************************************************  
1900 EST  
The Residence   
  
"Harm, dinner was delicious," Harriet said.  
  
"I'll be sure to tell my kitchen staff," he said with a smile.  
  
"So, are you getting settled in, sir?" Bud asked.  
  
"Yes, Bud. I am."  
  
"Harm, I saw the press conference. What are you going to do about them?" AJ Chegwidden asked, instantly shifting the mood of the group to a serious one.   
  
"I don't know, Admiral. I just know I'm not going to keep my...relationship," Harm paused and looked at Sarah, "with Mac a secret." Mac looked at him sharply, surprised at her choice of words.  
  
"Bud, Harriet," AJ said, sensing that Harm and Mac needed to talk, "Why don't we look around the White House a little bit. I'm sure there are some great secret hiding places for AJ around here somewhere." They readily agreed and followed big and little AJ out of the room.   
  
"What that a hint?" Mac asked nervously.  
  
"Yes," Harm replied seriously.  
  
"I don't understand where you...I don't..." Sarah attempted to gather her thoughts, but her close proximity to Harm made it nearly impossible.  
  
"Let me explain, Sarah," he whispered. Slowly, he leaned in closer and lowered his lips to hers in a gentle, promise filled kiss.  
  
"I think I understand now," she said, resting her forehead against his. "Harm?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What about our deal?"   
  
"What?"  
  
"You know. Five years, go halves on a kid. Were you serious about that?"  
  
"I was, but I thought when you and Mic...I thought the deal was off. Besides, it's been six years now. And our timing always seems to leave a lot to be desired."  
  
"Are you saying you wouldn't want to go through with it?" Mac asked quietly.  
  
"Oh, God no, Sarah. But I don't just want to go halves on the kid with you. I want the whole package."  
  
"Are you saying..." Mac trailed off.  
  
"Yes. I want the fairy tale, Sarah. The big wedding, the white picket fence...the rest of our lives. I wouldn't dare just go halfway with you. It's all or nothing."  
  
"Oh, Harm," Mac said, kissing him again. "I want it too, but how do we pull this off, Harm? The press is watching our every move. And what about regulations?"  
  
"What about regulations?" Harm asked, confused. He thought they were finally to a place where regulations didn't matter.  
  
"You're the commander in chief of the Armed Forces, Harm. Wouldn't it be fraternization?"  
  
"I hadn't even thought of that," he said. "I'm not sure. Can you have someone...someone trustworthy look into that?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"We'll make this work, Sarah. I promise. We'll find a way," he whispered fiercely as he pulled her into his embrace.  
  
They stayed like that for a long time until a discreet throat clearing jolted them back to reality. "Mac, are you ready to leave? Little AJ is falling asleep on Bud and Harriet," AJ said.  
  
"Yes, sir," she said, standing up. Harm walked her to the stairs with AJ and the Roberts'.  
  
"Good night, Ninja Girl," he said, bending to give her a quick kiss.  
  
"'Night...President Flyboy," she replied.  
  
Harm watched as his guests walked down the stairs and out of the White House. Running a hand through his hair, he leaned against the wall and thought, 'God, what am I doing?'  
****************************************************************************  
Bobbie Latham's memorial service at Arlington was short, but extremely moving. Her family was there from Michigan as well as some of her former constituents. Many senators and congressmen were in attendance, as well as others she had worked with while in Washington. And in the front row of the funeral procession stood President Harmon Rabb, Jr. with Brig. Gen. Sarah Mackenzie right by his side.  
****************************************************************************  
0800 EST  
The Oval Office  
  
Harm looked around at his small group of advisors. "Good morning,  
gentlemen," he began. "What's on tap for the day?"  
  
His chief of staff, Alan Wright, said, "Well, Mr. Rabb, the CIA will  
have the PDB here shortly, but there shouldn't be anything horribly pressing there. The Senate is almost done with confirmation hearings for the cabinet. Sir, the press is breathing down our neck about you and General Mackenzie. People on the Hill are breathing down our necks about it as well."  
  
"Dammit," Harm swore softly. "I don't think a single man being attracted to a single woman is anything to make a federal case about. But apparently my being president changes the rules. Tell them that it's none of their damn business. You're dismissed," Harm said, rising. "Alan, can I talk to you for a minute?"  
  
"Yes, sir," the young man said, standing in front of Harm's desk.  
  
"You are well aware of General Mackenzie's past, correct?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Try to keep her name out of the papers if you can, Alan. I don't want her name dragged through the mud."  
  
"I'll do my best, sir." ****************************************************************************  
0930 EST  
The Oval Office  
  
"Mr. Rabb, General Mackenzie is on line 1."  
  
"Thanks, Jenny," Harm said. "Hey, Ninja Girl."  
  
"President Flyboy."  
  
"So what can I do for you today, Mac?"  
  
"I did some looking through the UCMJ."  
  
"What did you find out?"  
  
"Not a lot. There isn't really a precedent for this."  
  
"No, I don't guess there would be," Harm murmured.  
  
"Leave it to you to turn the White House on its ear," she laughed.  
  
"Leave it to you to capture my heart like this," he countered.  
  
"What do we do, Harm?"  
  
"I don't know, Sarah. I guess we'll just have to be careful. I just wish you could stay here, Sarah. So I could hold you, and you could hold me. I know it can't happen, but I wish it could."  
  
"Me too," she said. "Harm, I hate to cut this short, but I have a  
staff meeting in ten minutes, and I need to prepare for it."  
  
"Okay. Give me a call tonight. You have the number for the residence, right?"  
  
"I do, and I will give you a call tonight."  
  
"Have a good day. I love you."  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
As they hung up, neither seemed to realize what they had just said to each other. It seemed so natural, in fact, that neither of them gave it a second thought. But the press was catching the scent of a scandal and pounced on it, not caring who they took down for the sake of the story. ****************************************************************************  
1745 EST  
Oval Office  
  
"Come in," Harm called when he heard on the knock on the door.  
  
"Sir, have you seen tonight's Post?" Alan Wright asked.  
  
"I haven't. Why?"  
  
Alan placed the copy he had in his hand on Harm's desk. The headline screamed, "President's Mistress an Alcoholic." Harm's eyes narrowed as he skimmed the article which spelled out her childhood, alcoholism, failed marriages, and her Article 32 hearing. Picking up his phone, Harm quickly dialed Mac's number.  
  
"Mackenzie."  
  
"Mac, find a copy of the Post."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You were right, Sarah."  
  
"Oh, God," she moaned. "What does it say?"  
  
"That you're an alcoholic. That you've had two failed marriages. That you went through an Article 32 hearing. I'm so sorry, Mac."  
  
"Was is a lie?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Was any of it a lie? Did the Post print anything about me that was  
false?"  
  
"That's not the point, Sarah. The point is that your past shouldn't be for public consumption. And it has no bearing on my presidency."  
  
"That's where you're wrong, Harm. How can the American people trust a president who consorts with an adulteress?"  
  
"Sarah, don't say that."  
  
"Harm, I'm past all of that. And you're past all of that. But the  
American people obviously aren't."  
  
"That doesn't make it alright for the Post, or any other newspaper for that matter, to pull this crap."  
  
"I never said it did, Harm. But you've got to accept that it's bound to happen. It really doesn't bother me all that much. Don't let it bother you."  
  
"Maybe you're right."  
  
"So what are you going to do, Harm?"  
  
"Call a press conference. Try to call off the dogs."  
  
"Good luck, Flyboy."  
  
"Thanks. I think I'm going to need it." Hanging up the phone, Harm  
stood up and walked out of his office. "Alan, call a press conference."  
  
"Yes, sir, Mr. President," Alan replied, his voice filled with pride as he watched his boss prepare to take the press to task.  
****************************************************************************  
1830 EST  
White House Press Room  
  
President Harmon Rabb wished he could still wear his dress whites. He would make a much bigger impact on the press in uniform, but a simple suit and tie would have to do.   
  
"Good evening," he began. "Thank you all for coming at such short notice. Less than an hour ago, my chief of staff showed me the headline on tonight's Washington Post. Not only was I shocked that the Post would print such things, I was angered that the lives of those closest to me are being put under a microscope. Sarah Mackenzie is and always will be very special to me. Has her life been a fairy tale? No. Has she made some mistakes? Yes. But Sarah Mackenzie is a survivor. She has been to hell and back more times than I can count, but make no mistake about it. Sarah Mackenzie always bounces back. She wouldn't be where she is today if not for her ability to bounce back. She is an incredibly strong woman, and I assure you, it would take a bigger man than me to volunteer to trade places with her. I realize that as the president of the United States, my private life is no longer private, but leave Sarah out of this. If you want to know about my past transgressions, that's fine. Ask, and I'll tell you what you want to know. But leave my friends and family out of this."  
  
Yet again, Harm didn't wait around to answer questions. He simply  
strode out of the press room and up to the residence, where he called his  
mother, the one person he knew would know what he should do.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Mom?"  
  
"Harm, I'm so glad to hear from you. How are you?"  
  
"Not so good, Mom. Did you see the press conference?"  
  
"Yes, I did. You seemed...upset."   
  
"I am!" Harm exclaimed. "Sarah's past is none of their damn business."  
  
"Unfortunately, Harm, even as President, I'm not sure you can pull  
rank on the press."  
  
"But it's not fair, Mom."  
  
"Harm, don't whine. You sound like a child." Trish Burnett paused  
thoughtfully. "You love her, don't you?"  
  
"Yes, I do. She's everything to me, and I don't know if I can have her right now."  
  
"Sure you can," his mother assured him.  
  
"How?"  
  
"Harm, if there's one thing the American people like better than a  
scandal, it's a fairy tale. Give the American people their fairy tale."  
  
"How?" Harm asked again.  
  
"Court her. Do it properly. Take her out to dinner. Attend State  
functions with her. If she comes over to the White House at night, have  
others come with her if possible and always make sure the press knows when she leaves. Go up to Grandma Sarah's for the weekend, but take Harriet and Bud with you. Make sure all of DC knows when you proposed and that she said yes, but only after the fact. You can do this, Harm. I know you can."  
  
"You sound so sure. Do you really think Sarah would accept  
a proposal from me?"  
  
"Are you that thick headed, Harm? Of course she would. Haven't you  
two figured out how much you mean to each other yet?"  
  
"It's not that, Mom," Harm said. "It's my being the President. Would it be fair to ask her to become the First Lady?"  
  
"Would it be fair to either of you to go through life not knowing  
because you were too chicken to ask?"  
  
"I love you, Mom. You always know what to do."  
  
"Not always, dear. But it's nice to know my son, the President,  
still needs some motherly advice from time to time. Harm, if you love each other enough, I know you can make this work. I'd love to meet her sometime."  
  
"Maybe you and Frank could come to DC sometime soon. It seems easier for people to come to me now. Less of a spectacle."  
  
"We'd love to, Harm. Talk to Sarah and get back to me."  
  
"Will do. I think I'm going to call Sarah now."  
  
"I think that's a very good idea, Harm. I love you."  
  
"I love you, too, Mom. Thanks for everything."  
  
"You're welcome. That's what mothers do. You'll understand one day  
when you become a father."  
  
"Yeah," Harm replied wistfully. "Bye, Mom."  
  
"Goodbye, Harm."  
  
Harm hung up the phone and leaned back on the sofa. His mother always had a way of convincing him that things would all work out. Now all he had to do was convince everyone else of the same thing. He picked up the phone to dial Mac's number, but stopped when he saw her standing in the door. Putting the phone down, he stood and rushed over to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her for all he was worth.  
  
"Wow," she said after they separated. "What was that for?"  
  
"Do I need a reason?" he asked, brushing his fingers across her face, memorizing every feature.  
  
"No, you don't."  
  
"Good," he said, leading her to the sofa. They sat down and Harm  
wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "I love you," he whispered.  
  
"I love you too," she murmured.  
  
"I just got off the phone with my mom."  
  
"How is she?" Mac asked.  
  
"Good. Wise as ever. She gave me the solution to our problems."  
  
"We have problems?" Mac asked.  
  
"Yes, we do," he said seriously. "The prying eyes of every  
member of the White House press corps. But Mom has a perfect solution."  
  
Turning in Harm's embrace and resting her head on his chest, Mac teased, "So are you going to tell me, or is it classified?"  
  
"Prepare to be courted, Sarah. Courted properly. Holding doors,  
holding out chairs, offering you my coat on a cold night, the whole nine  
yards. We're going to make sure that everyone knows when you enter the  
White House and always when you leave. We can take trips up to Grandma  
Sarah's and spend a weekend there with Mom and Frank or Bud and Harriet.  
And when I propose, everyone in Washington will know about it."  
  
"When you propose?" she asked, looking hopefully at him.  
  
"Yes," he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "When I propose.  
Because I will propose, Sarah. And we'll have a wonderful wedding in my  
Rose Garden. I love you, Sarah. And I will do whatever it takes for us to be happy, regardless of what the American people think."  
  
"Harmon David Rabb, you are amazing."  
  
"No more amazing than you, my dear Sarah. I meant what I said in that press conference tonight. It would take a much stronger man than me to trade places with you. The only thing greater than my respect for you is my love for you."  
  
"President Flyboy, I never knew you were such a softy."  
  
"Only for you, Sarah."  
  
"I'm glad," she whispered, raising her head to softly kiss him.  
****************************************************************************  
In the ensuing months, as Trish had predicted, the American people got their fairy tale. As Harm and Mac fell more deeply in love, the American people also fell in love with her. They admired her grace and courage. They appreciated her candor about her past. They were inspired by her passion on the behalf of battered women and abused children. The American people were happy, but Harm and Mac were much happier. Despite the fish bowl they lived in, Harm and Sarah still managed to do many of the things couples did. They watched movies, went out to dinner, and enjoyed quiet evenings at home. Harm was also becoming more comfortable in his role as leader of the free world. He had managed to get leaders from both parties to sit down and hammer out compromises on many divisive issues. Things were going smoothly for the Rabb White House until the Middle East, a perennial hotbed for conflict erupted late in the fall. ************************************************************************  
October 26, 2005  
The Oval Office  
1545 EST  
  
"Mr. President," Alan said, sticking his head in the door.  
  
"Yes, Alan?" Harm replied, not looking up from the paperwork he was  
going over.  
  
"We have a situation."  
  
"What kind of situation?"  
  
"The Israelis and the Palestinians, sir."  
  
"Dammit! Call everyone to the Situation Room, ASAP."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Harm picked up the phone and dialed her number. "Mackenzie."  
  
"Sarah, how soon can you be at the White House?"  
  
"From the sound of your voice, whenever you need me. What's going on, Harm?"  
  
"The Israelis and Palestinians are fighting again. I could use your input."  
  
"Give me fifteen minutes, Flyboy. I love you."  
  
"I love you, too." ****************************************************************************  
1630 EST  
White House Situation Room  
  
"Now that everyone's here, let's get started," Harm said, looking  
around at the men whom he trusted to help him through international crises such as this. "I've invited General Mackenzie here today because she has some experience with matters of the Middle East. Her grandmother is from the area and she educated General Mackenzie about the conflicts there. I'm sure Mac's knowledge will prove to be invaluable."  
  
"Yeah, so you can get her into bed," the DCT, Director of Central Intelligence mumbled.  
  
Harm was instantly in his face. "If you have a problem with the way I live my life, Mr. Hollings, we can discuss it later. Bur for now, I expect everyone in this room to be treated with respect. One more outburst like that, and your six will be out the door so quick you won't know what hit you. Do I make myself clear?" Had they not been in public with Harm's subordinates in the room, Mac would have told Harm to calm down, that it wasn't that big of deal, but because of their surroundings, she kept her mouth shut.  
  
"Yes, sir," Hollings mumbled.  
  
"Good. Mr. Alexander," he said, turning to Richard Alexander, his  
Secretary of State, "What's going on right now?"  
  
"The usual. Armed Palestinians have been protesting for days about  
Israeli control over the West Bank, so the Israelis brought out the big guns and started shooting. There have been several suicide bombings in the past 36 hours, and at least 75 people have been confirmed dead. Mr. President, I can be in Jerusalem in 12 hours to begin peace talks."  
  
"That's not going to do any good," Mac interrupted.  
  
"Why not?" Alexander demanded.  
  
"Because this conflict has very little to do with politics and  
everything to do with religion. And religion has historically proven itself to be non-negotiable."  
  
"What do you mean, Mac?" Harm asked.  
  
"When Israel was created, it was meant to be the Jewish state because, in essence, the Jews never really stopped wandering the desert. However, they weren't the only people with no place of their own. The Palestinians have traditionally had the same problem. Palestine got swallowed up when Israel was created, and the Palestinians have been bitter ever since. While the Israelis see no problem with this arrangement, the Palestinians feel that they deserve a state of their own as well."  
  
"This is all territorial, General," Alexander interrupted. "Where does religion play into this?"  
  
"The territorial disputes all center around Jerusalem, a holy city for three faiths. The Muslims have the Dome of the Rock, the Jews, the Wailing Wall, and the Christians, the Via Dolorosa. The Palestinians deeply resent the face that the Jews of claimed Jerusalem as the capitol of Israel because they feel it is no more important to the Jews than it is to the Muslims. Even the United States doesn't recognize Jerusalem as the capitol. Our embassy is in Tel Aviv."  
  
"So what's the solution?" Harm asked.  
  
"Harm-Mr. President, if I had the answer to that, I'd have a Nobel  
Peace Prize by now."  
  
"Do you have any suggestions?"  
  
"Yes, but I need some time to do the research."  
  
"Put a team together. Call Webb and enlist his help. This mess has been going on for 60 years. I'd like to put a stop to it."  
  
"Yes, sir," Mac said with a smile. Turning to Admiral Chegwidden, who had become a member of the Joint Chiefs, she said, "Sir, I'm going to need time away from JAG to work on this. With SecNav's permission, could you possibly step in as acting JAG?"  
  
"Certainly, General," AJ replied, his voice filled with pride as he watched his protégés work.  
  
"Mr. Alexander," Harm said, standing, "Contact the Israeli ambassador and make sure he's in contact with the Prime Minister. Tell him to call off the Army unless the protesters remain violent."  
  
"Will do, Mr. President."  
  
"Dismissed."  
  
All of the men left, but Mac stayed behind with Harm. When only the two of them were left in the Situation Room, she wrapped her arms around his waist and said, "Thank you for letting me take this on, President Flyboy."  
  
"I wouldn't have given you this unless I thought you could pull it off. Go get that Nobel Prize, Marine," he replied, kissing her cheek. "Let's go eat. It's almost 1800 hours."  
  
"Actually, it's 1807, flyboy, but dinner does sound good." ****************************************************************************  
2045 EST  
Residence  
  
Harm put another log on the fire then sat back down beside Mac. She leaned against him and he put his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to him. "So, are you looking forward to our weekend away?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah. I get you all to myself. And I finally get to meet your  
mom and Frank." Mac paused. "Do you think they'll like me?"  
  
"They already do," he assured her. "Mom's been planning our wedding for years now. Don't worry, Sarah, they'll love you as much as I do."  
  
"I love you, too," she whispered. "What about your grandmother? Are you sure she won't mind all of us coming?"  
  
"Of course not. Gram loves having company. I haven't been up there since before the election last year. It sure beats Camp David."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because Camp David is a perk of the presidency. But I can go to  
Gram's, and I don't have to be President Rabb. I can just be Harm."  
  
"Does that mean I can't call you President Flyboy?" Mac teased, giving him a passionate kiss.  
  
"Not in public," Harm murmured against her lips. They were quiet for awhile, simply enjoying each other's company. Then Harm said, "Sarah, these past six months have been the best time of my life."  
  
"Mine too."  
  
"And it's going to get better this weekend. I promise."  
  
"Oh it is, is it?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I can hardly wait," Mac replied, settling in to Harm's embrace. ****************************************************************************  
1230 EST  
The Oval Office  
  
"Mr. President, Clayton Webb on line 1."  
  
"Thanks, Jenny," Harm said, picking up the phone. "What can I do for you, Clay?"  
  
"I hear you wish to enlist my help, Mr. President."  
  
"Clay, please, save the Mr. President stuff for when we're in public. You've known me far too long. And actually, Mac is going to enlist your help. I just suggested it."  
  
"Okay, Harm. I also hear my boss didn't make himself any friends yesterday."  
  
"No, he didn't," Harm said. "By the way, I need to talk to you about that, in person."  
  
"Can do. So how are things in the White House?"  
  
"Busy. Chaotic. But I'm enjoying my job."  
  
"That's good to hear. More importantly, how are things with you and Mac?"  
  
"Couldn't be better."  
  
"I must say, at first, I was surprised that you made your relationship so public, but the strategy seems to be working. Mac's got this country eating out of her hand."  
  
"Yeah. It will be interesting to find out what happens on Monday when everyone finds out I proposed."  
  
"You've what?"  
  
"Oh, not yet. We're going to my grandmother's house this weekend. Mom and Frank are going to be there. I'm going to propose."  
  
"Congratulations, Harm," Clay said sincerely. "I'm really happy for you."  
  
"Thanks, Clay. Here's hoping she said yes."  
  
"Of course she will. She loves you, Harm. Any woman who  
would put up with life under a microscope would have to. So I'll be in the wedding, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Where's it going to be?"  
  
"The Rose Garden."  
  
"I should have known. Harm, I hate to cut this short, but my secretary just informed me that a certain Marine is waiting for me."  
  
"Well, don't keep her waiting on my account."  
  
"Don't worry, I won't. Good luck this weekend, Harm."  
  
"Thanks, Clay. I'll let you know how it all turns out."  
  
"You'd better. Bye, Harm."  
  
"Bye, Clay." ****************************************************************************  
That week, the strategy for dealing with the situation in the Middle East began to take shape. By the week's end, Mac, Webb, AJ, and the rest of their team were more than half way done with their proposed treaty. While Harm was very pleased with their progress, the peace treaty wasn't forefront in his mind. He was anxious about his weekend trip to Pennsylvania with Mac. Only Grandma Sarah and Clay knew of his plan to propose to Mac. While Clay called him daily to keep him updated on the status of the treaty, he also reassured Harm that he had nothing to worry about. Finally, Friday night, with a Secret Service escort to Belleville, Harm and Mac hit the road to the Rabb farmhouse.  
****************************************************************************  
1930 EST  
Sarah Rabb's house  
Beallsville, PA  
  
Harm parked his SUV in front of the old white farmhouse and he and  
Sarah stepped out into the large front yard. "Harmon Rabb!" the elderly  
woman on the front porch said, walking down the steps to greet them.  
  
"Hi, Grams," Harm said, giving her a big hug. "Grams, this is my  
Sarah, Brigadier General Sarah Mackenzie."  
  
"Welcome to the family, Sarah," Grams said, giving her a hug as well.  
  
"Thanks, Mrs. Rabb."   
  
"What's this 'Mrs. Rabb' nonsense? Call me Grams."  
  
"Okay, Grams," Mac said with a smile.  
  
"Harm, why don't you get the luggage and take it up to your room.  
Sarah, I just pulled some chocolate chip cookies out of the oven."  
  
"Grams?" Harm ventured. "Where's Sarah staying?"  
  
"With you, of course." Laughing at Harm's shocked expression, she  
added, "Come now, Harm. I'm not so old fashioned that I would expect you to sleep in separate rooms. That is part of why you came up  
here, isn't it?"  
  
Both Sarahs laughed as Harm's face turned 6 different shades of red.  
"Grams, what were you saying about cookies?" Mac asked, as they walked up  
the steps to the front porch, leaving a still befuddled Harm to retrieve the luggage. The women made their way to the kitchen table where they sat down and enjoyed conversation and cookies. "You know, Grams, it seems so weird that in all the time I've known Harm, this is the first time we've actually met, and yet I feel like I've known you forever. Harm talks about you all the time."  
  
"I feel the same way, dear," Grams assured her. "But things are  
different between the two of you now."  
  
"I don't know that they really are though," Mac said. "I think we've always had these feelings. I've loved Harm for a lot longer than the past six months. I know that. But there were always obstacles. I guess there still are, but we've been able to get past them."  
  
Harm approached the kitchen and heard bits and pieces the conversation being had. Sticking his head in the door, he said, "Well, I've got all of the luggage inside, and now I guess I'll just go upstairs and...relax."  
  
"I think that's a good idea, Harm," Grams said, appreciating his  
recognition of the girl talk going on. He turned and walked upstairs,  
leaving them alone again. "He loves you, Sarah, very much."  
  
"I know," Mac said shyly, blushing slightly. "I love him too. It's  
been an adjustment for both of us to fall in love with all the world watching us."  
  
"I'm sure it has."  
  
"But you know what, Grams? I don't think it would have worked if we  
weren't such good friends. It takes a strong relationship to endure having every eye in the country watch your every move."  
  
"I think you're right, Sarah. But I also remember a time when you and Harm weren't on such good terms."  
  
"Yeah. For almost three years, I wasn't sure we'd ever be as close as we were before. He went back to flying and I got involved with Mic, and got married. That was one of the worst times of my life, Grams. Not just because Mic was abusive, but because Harm and I had alienated each other so much that we barely spoke."  
  
"He was so worried about you, Sarah. He'd call me and tell me how much he wished you could see yourself because as he put it, you weren't his "kick ass jarhead" like you once were. That and he expressed the overwhelming desire to kick a certain Australian's six back to the outback."  
  
Mac laughed at that then turned serious again. "I never would have  
gotten out of that relationship if Harm hadn't been there. He made me see that Mic was emotionally abusing me. Then he helped me find myself again."  
  
"Grams!" a feminine voice called from the living room.  
  
"Come with me, dear," Grams said, taking Mac by the hand and leading  
her toward the front door. In the entry way were a middle aged couple and Harm, giving them both hugs.  
  
Upon seeing Mac and Grams, Harm walked toward them and held Mac close to him. "Mom, Frank, this is Sarah."  
  
"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Sarah," Trish Burnett said, giving her a hug.  
  
"You too, Mrs. Burnett."  
  
"None of that," Trish said. "Either Trish or Mom, but none of this  
Mrs. Burnett business. And this is my husband, Frank."  
  
"A pleasure to meet you, Sarah," he said, also hugging her.  
  
"You too," she said, returning the hug. When she pulled away, she  
hastily wiped her eyes. Harm noticed and wrapped his arms around her.  
  
"Hey," he whispered. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing," she murmured, leaning into him. "It's just that your  
family's so kind and welcoming. I never had that growing up. And I didn't have it with Mic."  
  
"Hush," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "That's all in the  
past. What's important is that right now, is that we're here with my  
family, who is also your family and you are very much loved, Sarah."  
  
"He's right, dear," Trish said, placing a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "You're part of our family now, and you'll always be loved. By all of us."  
  
"Frank, why don't we go out on the front porch? I'm sure Mom wants the opportunity to grill Sarah without interference from me," Harm said.  
  
"After you, Harm."  
  
As she watched her husband and son go out to the front porch, Trish  
commented, "Well, the presidency has done wonders for his powers of  
observation."  
  
"Tell me about it," Mac grinned.  
  
"Actually, dear, I'd like for you to tell me a little about what your take on the last six months has been."  
  
"A whirlwind," Mac said. "I guess a part of me has always been in love with Harm, but actually being able to express those feelings is wonderful. It's a challenge being the girlfriend of the leader of the free world, but it's worth it."  
  
"What you two have is so special, Sarah," Trish said.  
  
"I know. You have an amazing son, Trish. He's stood by me through  
some horrible times."  
  
"I know he has, dear. Sarah, what exactly happened between you and Mr. Brumby? All I know is what my son would do to him if locked in the same room with him."  
  
"Mic was emotionally abusive. It was very covert, but it was there.  
It started with little things. He'd ask leading questions to get me to tell him what he wanted to hear. He took me to dinners with his law firm and wouldn't do anything when his partners made degrading comments toward me. If we had a disagreement, he'd tell me if I really loved him, I'd go along with what he wanted. Looking back, I can see what was happening, but that was impossible at the time. I started questioning my ability as a lawyer as well. At work, I stopped taking risks, I kept looking for a second opinion. I felt worthless. Finally, one day, Harm recorded bits and pieces of our conversations and he played the tape back to me. I was shocked at what I sounded like. But Harm helped me break all ties with Mic, including filing for divorce. He's start arguments with me just to provoke me into yelling at him. He helped me find myself again, then a few months later, he decided to be Bobbie's running mate and the rest is history, I guess."  
  
"So when did you first tell each other 'I love you?'" Grams asked.  
  
"The morning after his first press conference after the plane crash. I called him just to say hi, and before we hung up, we exchanged I love yous. I didn't even give it a second thought until later. It seemed so natural. That's when I really knew that I loved him."  
  
"Mom, can we come in now? I'm tired and I'd like a little time with  
Sarah."  
  
"Sure, Harm. Why don't you two go on upstairs?"  
  
"I think we will. Just for the record, my door will be open all night and because you and Frank will be next door, you can vouch for the fact that nothing suspicious is going on."  
  
"Okay, son. Sweet dreams, you two." ****************************************************************************  
2215 EST  
Harm's Room at Grandma Sarah's  
  
Harm and Mac, both dressed in flannel pajama pants and a t shirt,  
climbed into bed and Harm turned off the light. "So did you survive the  
interrogation, ninja girl?"  
  
"Yes. It wasn't much of an interrogation, though. Just some girl talk."  
  
"I love you, Sarah."  
  
"I love you too, President Flyboy. But right now, what I'd really love is some sleep. That proposal for the Joint Chiefs totally consumed all of last week."  
  
"Except when you were with me, right?"  
  
Mac swatted his arm, and said, "Not to make your head any bigger than it already is, but yes. When I'm with you, you're all I think about."  
  
"Ditto for you, Marine. Sarah, do you remember the discussion about  
our deal?"  
  
"Yeah. Why?"  
  
"Well...Do you still want...everything? Like we talked about?"  
  
Mac raised her head off Harm's chest and looked him in the eye. "Of  
course, I do, Harm. I'd like nothing more than to go all the way with you like we talked about."  
  
"Even if it means taking on the added responsibility of being the First Lady?"  
  
"I know what it means, Harm. And it doesn't bother me. I love you,  
and I want to be with you. That's all that really matters."  
  
Harm kissed her gently and said, "You're amazing, Sarah."  
  
"Ditto for you, sailor. Now, let's get some sleep."  
  
"An excellent idea," he replied, holding her close to him. He kissed the top of her head and said, "Sweet dreams, Ninja Girl."  
  
"You too, President Flyboy," Mac murmured into his chest as she drifted off to sleep. ****************************************************************************  
The next day, Saturday, Harm and Mac went into town, so Harm could show Sarah all of the little antique stores in Beallsville. After a full morning and afternoon, they headed back to the house and helped Grandma Sarah make a lavish dinner for the five of them. Little did Mac know it was a dinner that would change her life. ****************************************************************************  
1830 EST  
Grandma Sarah's house  
  
"Grams, this is delicious," Mac said between bites of the pot roast she had generously heaped on her plate. "Now I know where Harm gets his cooking skills from. Except for that meatless meatloaf. I wouldn't dare peg that on you."  
  
"Oh, I'm glad, dear. I don't know where he got that recipe from, but I do wish it would go back from whence it came," Grams replied with a smile.  
  
"Hey! Don't gang up on me! I'm the president! I can...I can..." Harm trailed off, unable to think of a witty comeback.  
  
"You can what, President Flyboy?" Mac said, intentionally using the  
nickname. "Have the Secret Service come after me? Frank and Steve wouldn't hurt me. They like me more than they like you."  
  
"Mac! I thought you said you wouldn't call me that in public!"  
  
"Children!" Trish exclaimed in her best motherly voice. "No fighting at the dinner table, or I'll put you in separate rooms tonight."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison.  
  
"President Flyboy, huh?" Frank said jokingly. "That's a new one."  
  
"It doesn't leave this dining room," Harm whispered menacingly.  
  
"Of course not, dear," Grams assured him. "Now eat your dinner before it gets cold."  
  
"I'm not really hungry, Grams."  
  
"I know you're not, but eat something anyways."  
  
Mac, Trish, and Frank cast confused looks at each other, trying to  
decipher the code grandmother and grandson were speaking in. Soon, silence reigned at the table as everyone went back to eating their dinner. When the food was gone and the table cleared, the group moved into the living room to sit in front of the roaring fireplace. As Harm passed Grams on the way into the room, she stopped him and said, "I think you'll need this," as she took a small box out of her pocket and placed it in his hand. He discreetly placed it in his own pocket and said, "Thanks, Grams." The conversation was light, ebbing and flowing from everything from the Redskins to the weather. Harm and Mac let it be known that they didn't want to discuss work or politics or anything remotely related to what awaited them upon their return to Washington. Through the course of the conversation, Mac noticed that Harm was being very quiet in all of the discussion.  
  
"Harm, are you with us?" she asked gently.  
  
"Yeah," he said, looking at her and placing a hand on her cheek. "Just thinking."  
  
"About what?" Mac replied. At this point, neither of them seemed aware that there were three other people in the room, all of whom were watching the scene playing out before them with great interest.  
  
"Our conversation last night. Our deal. Forever."  
  
"Interesting thoughts," Mac whispered breathlessly, anxious to see  
where Harm was going with this train of thought.  
  
"Well then, I have an interesting question for you."  
  
"I'm listening."  
  
"Sarah, we've talked about kids and a life together and growing old  
together and everything that goes along with a lifelong commitment. But  
I'm tired of talking about it. I want to do it. Sarah Mackenzie, would you do me the honor of becoming my First Lady?"  
  
"Yes," she whispered as he withdrew the ring box from his pocket and  
placed his grandmother's engagement ring on her finger. She looked at it  
carefully, as if memorizing every angle at which light bounced off the  
sparkling diamond. Then she looked up at him with pure love in her eyes.  
"I love you, so much, Harm. You just made me the happiest woman alive."  
  
"And you just made me the happiest man alive," he responded, just  
before his lips pressed against hers in a passionate kiss.  
  
"I guess that makes me the happiest mother alive," Trish said, breaking the spell that they had cast on each other.  
  
They looked up to see three very happy, though very teary faces smiling back at them. "Mom, Frank, Grams, meet your soon to be daughter in law," Harm said, holding her close to him.  
  
"I've said it once this weekend, but I'll say it again. Welcome to our family, Sarah," Trish said, standing and moving across the room to give her soon to be daughter in law a hug. Frank and Grams did the same, and when Grams wrapped her arms around the younger woman, she whispered in her ear, "I'm proud to call you my granddaughter, Sarah. I love you."  
  
"I love you too, Grams," Mac whispered, looking over Grams' shoulder to see Harm gazing at her with a look of pure, unadulterated love. ****************************************************************************  
That night, few words were uttered by Harm and Mac once they retired to bed. No words were needed. As they drifted off to sleep, they each dreamed of weddings, children, and the reaction of the press when they found out on Monday what had transpired over the weekend.  



End file.
